The View from Above is Always Changing
by Vialana
Summary: Peter has a fatal blind spot hiding in the shadows of his faith and optimism.


**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from _Heroes_ featured in this fan fiction. Also, two lines of dialogue towards the end are direct quotes from episode 3x13.**

_So, this is basically my reaction to Volume 3 so far. _

_Honestly, I'm confused as all heck and trying to get into the characters' heads wasn't helping much at all. Still, I produced some work of fiction after a rather long creative dry spell which I find makes me feel better about the whole situation. _

_Here's to hoping Volume 4 turns out slightly more coherent._

_Warnings: introspection, angst, very vague incestuous overtones_

_Spoilers: rather large references to 3x13 "Dual"_

**The View from Above is Always Changing**

People keep asking Peter: "Why do you always go back to him?" And every time he answers with: "He's my brother." Because it's true and he doesn't really know what else to say that might possibly explain what this _thing_ between he and Nathan really is.

There's a bond — that was to be expected even if they hated each other, but they don't and sometimes that's half the problem. Love is too elusive and inadequate a word to describe the depth of feeling and thought that flows between them. The closest Peter can equate it to is instinct, but even that falls short because even instinct fails at times. Sometimes you still go off with the stranger giving out candy, despite your parents' warnings and that heavy pit in your stomach making you drag your shoes, but everything's all right because you just know big brother's going to show up and save the day like he always does.

So everyone looks to him because he apparently holds all the cards, knows everything about this freak show veiled by the dignity of destiny, and all he can do is run to his brother. They ask him, with betrayal in their eyes and confusion on their faces, why he's running back to the bastard behind it all. Because, of course, Nathan's the bad guy — the mean old man sitting in his tower scowling at all the happy people below and waiting for his chance to finally take complete control and remake the world into a mirror of his own miserable image.

Peter hears all of this when they ask and he wants to scream. "Trust me," he says instead, knowing they will — because it's not Nathan they should be worrying about; _Peter _is the one who's doomed them all, he's the one who makes mistakes that Nathan has to fix. Nathan always fixes everything. But they continue to stare and whisper and there are hugs and consolations waiting when he returns, dejected and alone with no more help or plans than what they started with.

"See," they say, pointing accusing fingers, "he's not worth saving."

_And I am?_ Peter doesn't ask, because he really doesn't want to know the true answer to that. Had it been Nathan, he would have known what Peter wanted to ask and shaken his head, looking disappointed to hide his fear and misery.

_Of course you're worth saving. You're the only thing worth saving._

And Nathan proves his words by saving him (and the world too, almost as an afterthought) in the nick of time, fulfilling every expectation and reaffirming Peter's faith.

Still, sometimes, Peter understands what everyone else is talking about. Nathan's so focused he puts all of his energy into what he feels is most important and cuts off support to everything else for as long as he needs to. It works, but Peter knows that sort of intensity comes with the deadliest backlash.

Once, he walked in on Nathan studying late into the night for law school. Peter had been tossing and turning all night and finally got up for a glass of milk and saw Nathan's light on. He peeked in and watched his brother at work. The notes, the piles of books, the dim light, the broken pencils, the fastidious organization of the desk — Peter would have been amused by the idea that even his _perfect_ brother had to study and work for his success had he not been so disturbed by the sight of Nathan slumped in his chair taking notes. His shirt was rumpled and stained, the top buttons open wide enough to show collarbones too sharp even for a defined body tone like Nathan's. His hands shook, casting trembling shadows against the wall that almost matched the sunken pits under his eyes and cheekbones. Peter would have been amused by the fact his brother wasn't perfect if it didn't frighten him so much.

Nathan has never seen himself as more important than his goals and everything else in the world as even less so. Peter isn't an idiot; he knows his brother's flaws and how to exploit them better than anyone else ever could. Peter knows all of this because _he_ is the most prominent of all Nathans flaws and weaknesses — Nathan would do anything for him, even sacrifice the whole world. Peter can't see how everyone else doesn't realise this when it is the most obvious thing in the world to him.

Peter loves Nathan. Nathan loves Peter. They live for each other; they die for each other. It is immutable fact — a foundation of the world.

Only now there's a body lying between them and a smoking gun hanging limply from Peter's fingers. Nathan's shaking his head and speaking nonsense and Peter points the gun right between his brother's eyes.

This is so wrong.

He can hear everyone he's ever met chanting "I told you so!" in the back of his mind despite his lack of powers.

Their father's dead, he's responsible (no matter who intervened between the time the bullet left the barrel and lodged itself in their father's head) and now Peter is _pointing a __**gun**__ at Nathan!_

Everything is wrong, but Peter still hopes — he can talk Nathan out of this; everything's fine, he is safe now and Nathan doesn't have to do anything drastic. Nathan just shakes his head and knocks him to the ground with a lead pipe.

"You broke my heart, Peter."

Peter stares at Nathan, completely not comprehending. Nathan stands above him, not helping him up but pushing him down, raising his own weapon against Peter. _Peter_ broke _Nathan's_ heart? Then why does it feel like Peter can't breathe? Can't move? Can't even raise an arm to defend himself when it was so easy to lower it before and let go of the gun that had so smoothly taken their father's life so as not to take Nathan's?

Why is Nathan hurting him?

Danger and confusion and suddenly fire. Weapons are dropped. Nathan is no longer the aggressor but the victim and Peter just reacts as he always does. The rush of getting his powers back pale in comparison to the feeling of anxiousness as he sees his brother — his world — in danger. He flies and Nathan is in his arms once more and surely now everything will be all right? Nathan will see that he is still the most important thing in Peter's eyes and that felling will be returned.

Everything was just a mistake. Peter wasn't wrong. Nathan might be upset, but they'll hug and Peter will explain and Nathan will still love him and explain how it was all part of some larger plan. It wasn't what it looked like, but surely he'll still be able to salvage something from all of this mess. It just isn't right to use their powers and existence like this. Nathan will understand, he always understands. He's the only one who Peter can count on for anything. Peter can't lose him.

Nathan will understand. He wouldn't hold a grudge. He'd still love Peter. Nathan wouldn't … Nathan wouldn't …

"It's not what I would've done."

Nathan flies, graceful as ever, always up and further away and Peter stands in a wood alone with the ringing denouncement of his brother's love echoing in his ears.


End file.
